


Stark

by rocketsandraccoons



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Mentions of Rape, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 10:02:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7043686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocketsandraccoons/pseuds/rocketsandraccoons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Your brother Rickon is in my dungeon."</p><p>Rickon doesn't remember Sansa too well, but that won't stop the rage that floods through him as Ramsay talks about her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stark

**Author's Note:**

> I saw on tumblr someone mention the possibility of Ramsey taunting Rickon about Sansa, and I decided to write this. It's not my best work, and I should probably be focusing on my main fic, but here we are.

If he had learned anything in life, it was never to show fear. Not that he was scared. No. He was angry – _furious_ even. Rage clawed at his very being, as his fingers grasped at the metal bars of the cell door.

 _Of course_ Theon had told Ramsay everything. The treacherous bastard was _still_ ruining everything for him years after he took Winterfell in the first place.

Osha was dead. Actually _dead_. Had bled out on the floor while trying to kill the bastard that had taken his home – had burned his home to the ground. An innocent woman had been murdered trying to protect him.

The Umbers game plan was ruined, there was nothing that could be done other than wait. Wait and see what Jon's next move would be.

_At least Sansa is safe at the Wall._

_For now_. His mind retorted, the sceptical side of him used to his family suffering time and time again. A part of him was surprised that there was anything left of his family.

Ramsay had made it clear that he would go after Sansa. He needed her for a legitimate heir. Without her, his hold on the North was weak at the very best. A small, desperate, part of him wondered that if word got out that he was stuck in the dungeons of Winterfell, other Houses might rise up to the Starks cause. A son of Eddard was left -

Of course Bran was alive, of that he was sure. But a part of him wondered if he would ever see the older boy again. If what Osha had said was true – and he did not doubt her for a moment – then Brans life was in serious jeopardy; even with Meera, Hodor and Summer, it would be difficult to survive and army of the dead.

“I heard, that your sister and bastard brother Snow have left the Wall with that Wildling scum you seem to love so much.”

His heart froze for a moment, as he met the psychos eyes. Saying nothing, he refused to even blink. The bastard deserved nothing from him.

“My men seem convinced that they will try to rally the north so that they can come and save their little brother. The _only_ living, breathing, true son of Eddard Stark.”

If Theon had told Ramsay everything, then the psycho bastard of Bolton knew that Bran was still alive _somewhere_. Being the loyal brother he was, he refused to confirm or deny anything. If he was to do anything meaningful with his life, it would be to keep his elder brothers status and whereabouts a secret. Winterfell belonged to his family, not Ramsay. The man could claim to be his family through the marriage to Sansa, but that just made him scoff.

His sister jumped off the ramparts to escape the psychotic bastard and fled to the only brother she knew to still be living. A journey, on foot, to the Wall.

He could not remember much of his sister, but when he thought of her he could see a girl kissed by fire; who wore pretty dresses and sang songs to help him sleep. Not one of the faint memories he had indicated that his sister would ever consider such a harsh journey in such unstable conditions. There were faint memories of another sister who would have made that journey. A sister who was long dead. A sister who was not Sansa.

If the escape told him anything, it was that his sister would never willingly consider the psychopath as her husband. Therefore he would never be considered as any kind of family.

“Even if they are successful in finding men loyal to their cause, they will never find enough to defeat me. And when I win whatever battle comes my way, I will have two Starks and a bastard to play with. To show all those pathetic Houses what comes of those who betray House Bolton.”

 _The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives_. His fathers voice flitted through his mind, and his grip on the bars loosened ever so slightly.

Jon and Sansa would win. They had each other. They had him in spirit. Perhaps he could send Shaggydog to find them, to let them know that Ramsay had not won yet.

A sigh escaped Ramsays ghostly lips. “We are supposed to be family, Lord Stark. Perhaps, you ought to start acting like it.”

His lips twisted slightly, keeping his eyes lock on Bolton's. “I don't care what you or the Gods say. Sansa is a _Stark_. Not a _Lannister_. Not a _Bolton_. A _Stark_. Lady _Stark_ of Winterfell.”

“Your sweet sister will never be a Stark again. Her marriage to the imp could be debated, as it was never consummated. I should know, I took your sisters maidenhead as Theon Greyjoy watched.”

The bars were too thick, his fingers tightened around them until his muscles ached and the visible flesh of his hands paled.

“Such a good girl, is Lady _Bolton_. Her mother must have taught her well, as not once did she ever fight back. I must say, I was a little rough with her. I always like to see a pretty girl bleed. And when she cried, it was music to my ears.” He paused cocking his head to the side. “Always sobbing, never screaming. It was a pity, I do prefer screaming, but you Starks are made of sturdier stuff. You shouldn't worry though; when I get your sister back, I will fuck her until every man and woman in the entire North has heard her screams.”

Red. All he could see was red. His body felt as if it was shaking; anger and adrenaline flooded through his body as he stared at the man – the monster – that stood before him. The memories he had of his sister were few, far and faded; but she was his sister. The same blood flowed through their veins. They had the same mother and father; the same siblings.

“I have to say, that first night- Theon cried too, if that is _any_ consolation. Apparently watching your beautiful sister become a woman was far too much for him. When she returns, perhaps I shall have you watch as well. Would you cry too? No, you are too strong for that – for now. There is plenty of time to break you. Not in the same way I broke your sister, or even in the same way I broke Greyjoy. But I will break you.”

“Not unless I kill you first.”

Rickon was not Jon. He could not stand by Sansa and keep her safe. Instead he was the reason she was returning to face Boltons Bastard in the first place – a ruined plan that meant she had to collect herself an army in order to see him again. There was little he could do as a prisoner. Nothing her could do to tell Sansa that it would be okay. Nothing he could have done to rid her off the pain that psychopathic bastard had caused her.

But he could kill him.

A part of him was certain that Jon would want the honours, but Jon was not in Winterfell. Jon did not have to hear the various ways Ramsay had raped Sansa – from Ramsays own lips. Jon did not have to look at Ramsays face and hear the words that left his poisonous mouth.

_Pretty, perfect and ever so warm – despite how dry she was._

_Such a beautiful girl; already damaged when I got my hands on her. I simply added new scars to her already ruined body._

Sansa was the only sister that remained to him. He had failed Osha; being the reason she died. And with the encouragement of everyone else, had left his brother. With being the only known, living, named Stark, it was his duty – and pleasure – to murder the man who disrespected his sister. He would not fail her too.

With the rage that burned in his gut, the day he had the opportunity to kill Ramsay _Snow_ could not come soon enough.

 


End file.
